


Where They Find Life's Completion

by Merfilly



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshot of the Trinity, and how the <i>Enterprise</i> is just where they need to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where They Find Life's Completion

Divorce was something that changed any being that went through it, sometimes more than the marriage had done in the first place. Thankfully, the only one truly aware of how deeply scarred Leonard was by his divorce was Leonard himself. A military career on the frontiers of space helped a person get away from the old paths, the former friends, and the nagging ex-wife.

He really only regretted the lack of his daughter. He would have preferred to continue to watch over her, nurture that spirit of hers that seemed to be leaning toward the medical field.

Then again, maybe that was just a hopeful ol' country doc, wanting things to keep going in a traditional way.

The scars were inside, no one had to know it, and Leonard was well-supplied with sardonic wit and sarcasm to keep any of the tears from being seen as he went on with his single life. He had a fresh start, here on the _Enterprise_ , and he'd use it to make himself a new man.

* * *

There were always regrets in life, Jim supposed, but one thing was not among them in his mind. He never regretted the lack of a traditional family around him. That was more his brother's style.

Many people had said it was only a ship that could win Jim's heart, and he knew that to be true. He did love those who passed through his life… or he passed through theirs, more accurately. He just needed his ship, needed the stars, needed to be out and away from the life that threatened to choke and stagnate those who settled in one place.

Not any ship, he knew, but the one called _Enterprise_. Once he'd received the orders for her, there had been no doubt in his mind that she was all he could ever need again. All of his drive to become the youngest commanding officer in the history of Starfleet was refocused into the mission. He was no longer ambition personified, but that didn't mean he was resting. With this command, Jim dedicated himself to finding what was out there, and he'd leave that bridge only when he was no longer the best man for it.

* * *

In the change of the commander of his ship, Spock had come to see more facets of himself than he'd believed possible. Logically, he knew he had performed his duty as efficiently and aptly as he could achieve under Captain Pike. However, with Captain Kirk, he was learning that his own potential had more to reach before he could consider himself fully realized as an individual, let alone as a member of society.

In the quiet meditation, Spock slowly came to see that he had never been fully challenged under Pike. Number One had performed her duties at a level that had mitigated the need for Spock's skills to some extent. Once Spock had replaced Mitchell in the Executive Officer position, he had come to learn that all of his time among humans had barely begun to prepare him for what he faced with Kirk and, in a somewhat different manner, McCoy.

Not only did Spock find the challenge of improving himself a rewarding experience but he would, in his private thoughts, admit that it had brought him a satisfaction he had forgotten he craved. With them, he was accepted and giving back to the Federation all of the effort and resources that had gone into his training, even his very existence. It touched his mind that his mother would be proud of him, and quietly intruded with an almost wistful hope that perhaps his father would be as well.

It did not matter that such emotions were too human.

* * *

"Doctor McCoy, I am fairly certain I all but ordered you to take shore leave," Jim said as he came into the inner office where Bones was at the desk, two bottles on it, one of which was half-empty.

"I did. I went to shore, found this single malt, and came back to protect it from Scotty," the doctor rasped. He did pull out a second glass from the drawer at his side and fill it up. "What about you, Jim? I retaliated with threatening you with a medical command to take leave."

Jim dropped into the chair opposite the desk and accepted the drink. "I paid my respects to the station commander… and he is the same stick in the mud I remember from our last visit. So I went to the media center, found an antique book on sailing, and came back to enjoy it in peace."

"And you came to my office for…" Bones asked, though he knew perfectly well why.

Jim gave a half-cough and shifted, crossing an ankle over his knee as he got comfortable. "I may have thought to see if you had anything more palatable than the last bottle of ship-brew I was gifted… anonymously… with."

Bones snorted. "I had an anonymous donation as well. Tested pure but the taste was off," he told Jim. "Bottom's up to being too much part of this ship to walk on a mere space station!"

"I'll drink to that," Jim assured him. He suited action to words, and had just tipped the glass back down when he felt the prickle of attention behind him. Turning his head, he saw Spock entering the sanctum of the good doctor, and an amused light settled in his eyes. "Why Mister Spock, if you are here, and I am here, and Mister Scott is down on station, who have you given the conn too?"

"You mean he's not just in telepathic communion with the computer from here?" Bones asked, but his tone was light enough that Spock refused to rise to the bait, focusing instead on his captain.

"As we are currently running under minimal crewing, yet with relative safe conditions, I am allowing Ensign Chekhov to acquire some of his necessary command hours," Spock answered, moving fully into the office. "I noted that the transporters had logged your return, Captain, and as I was already aware of Dr. McCoy's presence, presumed I would find you here. Is there anything you require that precipitated your return to the ship?"

"No, Spock. I have no intention of risking the doctor's wrath or medical orders," Jim told him, "by returning to duty. You may continue to do as you will… unless you would like to join us?"

"I know Vulcans do not often take their leave, but… it would be good for Chekhov and the others in the Command program," Bones said slyly. 

One eyebrow canted up as Spock heard the invitations. He quickly considered all the variables, and then nodded once. "As the welfare of the ship includes the safety and health of its crew, I shall accept, to be certain you both attain the proper level of rest and recreation."

Bones looked at Jim, eyes going wide. "Did we just fail to have an argument?"

"I think so… and I think I can get used to it," Jim answered, slowly smiling in genuine warmth. He had his ship, and it was still the fire in his veins, but these two men were the rest of that magic. 

And they both knew it.

* * *

In the dark of space, near a station designed as a waypoint for the various members of the Federation to relax and resupply, a ship gleamed with running lights only. If inanimate objects could speak of emotions, this ship would sing with joy, for her crew were at rest, and her captain was at peace.

When they left, it would be onward to new dangers and bold explorations, but they would so freshly rejuvenated by the quiet shared between friends.


End file.
